


She Was Foolish To Believe

by xIAmAlsoAWe



Category: White Collar
Genre: 4x01, An AU Take on Wanted, Angst, Episode Tag - Wanted, F/M, Island adventure, NealxSara, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 04:30:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2177979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xIAmAlsoAWe/pseuds/xIAmAlsoAWe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't signed, but she knew who it was from the moment her eyes laid on the soft and cursive style of the words. Neal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I'm back with another Neal & Sara fic! It's been a while and I hope that this will do them justice.
> 
> I hate that they're not together anymore. And I hate even more that she's not part of White Collar anymore. I wish they would bring her back for the next season. I honestly think that the reason that the show is ending is because of Hilarie Burton's departure.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy~
> 
> P.S: I had this chapter all set up in my head and then it got away from me.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own White Collar nor any of the characters.
> 
> (Originally posted on FF.net)

After hearing second hand from Peter that the alleged ex-con that charmed his way under her skin and into her heart fled to another country without so much as a word of goodbye broke the steel-faced, badass, and fearless insurance investigator.

She had made her way into her apartment and immediately opened the middle cabinet above the kitchen counter, took out a glass, and poured herself a glass of scotch.

It was only until after downing her fourth glass of the stinging liquid that she noticed the small piece of white paper on her small circular table.

Curious, she stripped herself of her heels and jacket and picked up the card. When she had flipped it over, she nearly broke completely.

It read,

_I love you._

It wasn't signed, but she knew who it was from the moment her eyes laid on the soft and cursive style of the words.  _Neal._

The last stroke of the 'u' had been thicker than the rest of the note as if he was hesitating whether not he should write something else or even give her the note at all. The period that ended his last words to her was imperfect, – so unlike him – its ink was dragged out slightly like a 'Q' and its composition: only a small black blotch.

She was never  _that_ girl who dwelled on ex-boyfriends and weeped over the disappointment and pain that heartbreak brought, but this time was different. For the first time in her life, she had allowed herself to cry. Over a guy, no less.

Unconsciously, she had steadied herself on the side of the kitchen counter to keep from falling, but it didn't help. She slid down against the oak wood as she held the paper in her hands, her eyes closed, head thrown back, and tears streaming down her face.

She knew that getting involved with him was a terrible idea, horrendous even, but the pull that radiated from him was just too hard to struggle against. And soon she had reluctantly let him pull her in; close. Too close. He was just too irresistible. But she would never admit that to anyone, let alone him.

She gave an empty snort of laughter at that.

The irony in their relationship was astounding. To be honest, she was surprised how long they had lasted.

The insurance investigator who never found a home in neither the white nor black, but instead preferred to live in the gray – never fully bright and never fully dark – who made a living recovering stolen treasures and returning them safely back to their rightful owners and the alleged "reformed" con-man who lied and smiled for a living while he was the one to steal such said items.

It was odd how similar they were. More so even how they were polar opposites.

Riddled with dark pasts, they were both forced to stray off the path they most wanted to stay and they had desperately tried. Neal had always wanted to be an artist – a genuine one. He'd told her so. In some ways, he had. She'd told him that she had wanted to be a musician – a cellist. She was nowhere even close to that dream. Her twelve year old self would've been so disappointed. But she loved what she did. Some days more than others, but sometimes, she wondered what it would be like to be the one on stage rather than in the audience. Maybe he would've been in the audience, entranced by her performance as she created a melodic world for him to escape in.

They both had an array of masks and a closet full of skeletons to match.

They were both opinionated and passionate.

They controlled their emotions.

They had hearts of gold.

They wanted to change the world, if only just a little.

But she was socially accepted. He was not.

She was on the "good" side. He was on the "bad."

She was calculating and methodical. He was more of a dive-in head first type of guy.

She was a workaholic. He loved to have fun.

She was sentimental. He was quick to move on. (Maybe it was because he grew up in Wit Sec.)

She was steel-faced. He wore his heart on his sleeve.

Maybe that's why she loved him. And he, her. Maybe that's why they fit together perfectly, like yin and yang; peanut butter and jelly; wine and glass.

She just hoped that wherever he was, he was safe. Because the fact of the matter was that he had hurt her, but that didn't mean she didn't care for him – she would always care for him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Please don't hate me for this chapter!
> 
> Enjoy~
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own White Collar nor any of the characters.

Five months later finds Sara Ellis catching a flight to Cape Verde to follow up a lead (or several) on a new case. And she couldn't be happier - she was a workaholic, not stupid. If work had given her the opportunity to go to Cape Verde, she would gladly take it. And she did. The past few months were hard, but she'd managed to get through them just fine. Plus, a little R & R wouldn't hurt.

It had been three days of chasing down leads only ending up to find that Cape Verde was just a distraction – a misdirect, if you will – with no break in between. She had called in a favor and asked a colleague at Sterling Bosch and asked if he would gladly help recover the case.

On the fourth day however, she had stumbled onto a shop specialized in fedoras. Smiling sadly as the memory of Neal appeared in her mind, she decided that a little browsing wouldn't hurt. She recalled the morning where she had dressed up in nothing but his loosely buttoned dress shirt and they'd joked about how underdressed she was. He'd plucked his fedora from a nearby chair and placed it on her head – that would've led to a  _very_  good morning. If it weren't for Peter knocking on his door.

She shook her head and cleared out the thought before entering the small shop. The shopkeeper was helping out another customer when she'd walked in and when the shopkeeper turned, so did the customer.

"Sara?"

"Neal."

Her heart dropped and suddenly time froze. She couldn't hear the shopkeeper ask if she needed help with anything as she looked at him. He looked good. Like real good.

_Damn him._

He was wearing a suit as usual, but with no tie and brighter colors; a light blue dress shirt and cream blazer and pants. The first two buttons of his dress shirt was undone and so was his blazer. He had let his facial grow just a bit, but not enough to cover all the skin beneath it. He completed his island look with a dark brown straw fedora with a black band around the body of it.

Emotions bubbled to the surface. Emotions that she spent the better part of the last five months trying to hold back; anger, disappointment, pain, sadness, despair, loss, and everything in between.

She stomped her way out of there, her heels clicking loudly against the stone pavement.

"Sara!" He called after her, but she wasn't having any of it. If she stopped and took one look at him, she knew that the hurt that she felt when she had found out that he ran would just come tumbling back – this time, twice as hard.

"Sara!" He called after her louder this time, but to no avail. It was only when he grabbed her wrist with his strong hands that she did stop. Memories came flooding back.

"Let go of me." Her voice was stern and cold, surprising Neal as a result, but he pushed on nonetheless.

He let go of her wrist, but stepped in front of her. When she looked up and met his bright blue eyes with her sharp green ones, she saw a smile on his face.  _The audacity of that man!_

"Don't. You  _don't_  get to do that! Not to me." She pushed past him harshly, but he pressed on.

"Sara, please. Let me explain." She stopped when she heard a woman's voice behind her.

"New York!" She looked back to see a beautiful brunette make her way towards him and kiss his cheek. Her walls broke. The debris from the wreck lodged into her heart and felt like icepicks grinding against the wall of her heart.

She allowed a stray tear to fall. But quickly, the wall was built back up. This time, it was made of steel.

She had fooled herself to think that he wouldn't move on. It was Neal Caffrey after all. More so when she was stupid enough to believe that he just might have had

Sara watched as he flashed her his signature smile.

"Glad to see that I wasn't the only one hurt," she said, her voice thick with sarcasm and accusation. And she walked away. He called after her and again, she stopped.

"How long?" She asked, her voice low. She didn't have to finish the sentence for him to understand.  _How long were you gone until you met her?_

He took a step closer as Maya watched on with a twinge of jealousy and a whole lot of curiosity.

"Two-and-a-half weeks." He admitted.

She scoffed.

"I spent five months trying to get over you, but I guess what they say about old habits are true."

"Sara, it's not like that. It's just-"

"Don't lie to me, Caffrey. You know that it's "like that", so don't deny it." She took a pause before continuing, "For a moment, I thought you were being genuine for once in your life. I should've known that you wouldn't have changed. Congratulations! You fooled me. I must've forgotten that you lied for a living." She knew she her words were like a dagger to his heart.

_Good._

She reached into her purse and angrily placed a piece of paper against his chest. He took it from her as she walked away, tears evident in her eyes.

He looked down at it.

It was the note he left her.

And in that moment, the fact that he had hurt her – betrayed her trust, even – was going to be the biggest regret of his life.

He called after her.

She didn't turn back.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Reviews are much appreciated!


End file.
